


rescue me

by SketchLockwood



Category: The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood





	rescue me

Tears burnt her eyes, wind whipped her hair into a less than attractive mess. The glass prison around her, the cage London had made, bespoke for her, showed her how she looked; the mess he had made of her. 

 

Her hands clenched tightly as she bit her lips. She said nothing. After all, what was there to say? Not a word, not another lie. 

 

No more lies damn him... how could he?

 

She turned as she saw the man she least wanted to see. In his hand rested a cigarette, in his eyes was recognition and on his lips sat nothing close to concern. She looked forward once more, hearing his breaths, his footsteps and feeling his very being as he approached. “Do you mind if I?” 

She knew, knew he was asking her permission to light the cancer stick in his hand. She laughed despite herself, though the sound held no joy. Only anger, disgust. She shrugged, watching as he lit it, leaning on the wall upon which she stood before he dragged in a long and deep breath. “What’s funny?” His voice was soft, though his tone ignorant. As though he had not noticed her presence, let alone that she was stood upon a wall, ready to jump and end it all with one swift but glorious moment. 

 

“I am stood here, and you think I care about your smoking?” She scoffed, sounding more arrogant than otherwise she would have dared. After all, how did it matter anymore? It didn’t. 

 

“You are, I am not blind Anne.” He looked forward, not glancing to her with those cold, psychopathic eyes. He too was glancing at the glass sea, the ocean with it’s tsunami like sky scraping waves, below which swam the sharks, the cars that would bite to kill. “Did you want to be taller?” He smirked. 

 

She blinked, once, twice, three times, more? She no longer knew. She stared at him, astounded. Seeing his smugness as he looked to her. Had he truly asked her that? Was he so much an arse? Was he so clueless? Or was this his strategy? She shuddered, shook her head and looked away. No, he did not care enough to save her. Edward Plantagenet had cared for no one enough to save them. Not ever. The man was psychopathic, he was cool. He regarded human life as cheap. She was another puzzle to him. She was a doll, a toy. Surely?

 

She looked to him once again as she heard the rustle of clothing, watching him hold the cigarette in his mouth as he pulled off his suit jacket, glancing at the Ralph Lauren label before shrugging and casting it down upon the building’s roof. Then he removed his tie, casting away too. Although this time she watched it’s silky stream fall down to London. Like a flag, a warning. All the more ironic for it’s colour. 

White, as though she had sent a white flag down. As though she were surrendering to Richard. To everything he had done. To his will. He wanted this. He needed this. And he had won. Not just the battle but the war, she was defeated. He would get his prize, and what he deserved. 

 

Anne Neville’s attention was drawn from her thoughts as she felt movement beside her, saw Edward climbing up onto the wall too, standing beside her. “You wouldn’t believe the view would you Anne?” 

The view? Was that really what he thought of? The view? At a time like this. She felt tempted to push him, cushion the landing. Teach Richard the truest of lessons. Teaching him she was not a piece of meat. She would not be hurt so. 

 

She was not a rock, she bled, she cried. Lord, crying was all she had known recently. 

 

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I have come here the last months Anne..” His voice was quieter, almost a whisper. A whisper in which she heard both fear and shame. She glanced to him, seeing upon his features emotion, not the sculpted mask he so loved to pretend was real. He took one last drag on the cigarette, closing his eyes before he dropped it to it’s death. “It’s beautiful here. It removes you from reality, from the things you have no desire to face. Believe me, I understand.”

 

She gulped, saying nothing, only a scoff. 

 

“I know what happened. The company knows, Richard cannot hide his sins from his family Anne. He hurt you, you are not to blame and life can, it must go on.”

 

“No.” She said the word through gritted teeth. “It cannot. It should not. Must not. Me and Richard, we are done. We have finished. How am I to continue knowing that? How am I to move on?” 

 

He side stepped, closer to her until their hands touched. “You will find a way Anne. You will start the book again, change the chapters. Rewrite it Anne. This is not, does not have to be the end. See the next chapter, who knows you mean learn to like it.”

 

No, I won't. She didn’t say it. Only looked away as he moved closer again. She could not move, could not step away. She was in control, she had to be. She froze, feeling him balance behind her, his feet beside hers as he lifted her arms, outstretching them as though she were a bird, lacing his fingers through hers. “Then close your eyes. It’s just like flying. We will go together.”

“No!” She shouted it as she felt his foot edge forward. She was in control. She muttered the words, seeing his smile in the glass opposite. 

 

“Are you in control Anne? Then show me that, show me you have the power, the control. Show me you can fight.” 

 

She sighed. Closing her eyes, she would show him who was in control. She stepped, slipping her foot in front of the wall, ready to push, she did. Ready to feel the air soar around her. Instead she was suspended, her hand caught as he pulled her backwards. She gasped, landing upon a cushioned surface, sobbing and in Edward’s arms. “I couldn’t let you Anne. I just couldn’t forgive me. Understand. Please.” She saw it then, the pain deep within his eyes. Well hidden, now on show. 

 

“You will let him win?” 

 

“No Anne. I would never. He has hurt you. I will help you fight, but you jumping. That does not have you win. It will never. You have to fight Anne or he truly has won. You are a Neville, you are not a quitter.”


End file.
